


After Rain, The Sun Will Shine

by midnight_marimba



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Act 3 spoilers, Clowns, DQXI Rarepair Jam, Definitive Edition spoilers, Grief, Hendrik has a midlife crisis, M/M, Optimism, Romance, Sylv loses their temper, nonbinary Sylv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_marimba/pseuds/midnight_marimba
Summary: After a grand heroic victory, a start on reconstructing a home, and a developing romance with a dear companion, Hendrik has found as much happiness in the past months as he’s ever known.Then Sylv begins to talk about leaving, and the discussion turns into a bitter argument that threatens to tear them apart for good.  Yet Sylv’s words also bring back Hendrik’s memories of the woman who rescued him from Zwaardsrust, and in the process of remembering, Hendrik begins to question some of his own life choices.
Relationships: Graig | Hendrik/Sylvia | Sylvando (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	After Rain, The Sun Will Shine

**Author's Note:**

> Vague spoilers for Act 3 / post-game. Significant spoilers for Sylv’s bonus content from the Definitive Edition at the start of Act 2.
> 
> This is a standalone piece (unconnected to my other fics).
> 
> Thank you to [thechavanator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechavanator) for organizing round 2 of DQXI Rarepair Jam (aka any ship that isn't luminerik)! Check out the [tag](https://archiveofourown.org/tags/DQXI%20Rarepair%20Jam/works) this week for more fics of the sort.
> 
> I also want to give a shout out to [zwaardrust, the kingdom of flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24638851/chapters/59529631) by trans_king as another Hendrik/Sylv fic that touches on some semi-similar themes, check it out if you'd like more of this pairing involving Hendrik Thinking About Zwaardsrust!

Hendrik paces the perimeter of the small room he uses for an office these days, trying to bleed off some of his agitation into the movement.

Space is at a premium in the tiny village they have rebuilt inside Heliodor's great city walls, but Hendrik is leading the community’s efforts towards fortification and security, and so he has need for the extra room in his little house to keep samples of building materials, a small makeshift armoury, a miniature library of recovered military literature, a workspace, and a few scavenged chairs for visitors and collaborators.

Hendrik is not seeing the room tonight, though. His eyes stare through the shelves of books and maps and notes, and he steps around the battered old desk without looking at it.

Instead, his mind runs inexorably through the argument that occurred less than an hour past, searching uselessly for some missing piece that might have turned it in another direction.

  


* * *

  


“Hi, Henny. Can you spare a few minutes?” Sylv’s voice came from somewhere near the door. Their presence in Hendrik’s quarters was just barely beginning to be routine enough that Hendrik did not look up immediately, as he would have for any other visitor.

“One moment,” Hendrik replied absently, halfway through adding another line to his list of requested supplies. Gallopolis had sent a generous offer of aid two days before, and Hendrik’s time since then had been consumed with the business of confirming what exactly Heliodor needed most, and documenting it for their reply. 

“Okay.”

His pen hovered over the page, but suddenly he thought of the last time Sylv had interrupted his work to request assistance. His thoughts lingered not so much upon the mundane task of opening the jar, but rather the part that had followed. After he had handed back the open container, Sylv gave him that teasing smile of theirs, said, “I knew it was a good idea to keep a big, strong man around,” and threaded their hands behind his shoulders. The cool glass nudged the back of his neck, and somehow during the kiss, pickle juice began to trickle down his spine. “Sorry, sweetie, did I just spill? Right on your shirt? Well, let me help you with that, eh?” And then—

Sylv’s voice in the current moment interrupted Hendrik’s recollection. “I can come back in a little bit.”

Hendrink blinked and cleared his throat, feeling his face warm, realizing he had neither spoken nor attended to his work for a long moment. And now that he looked up at Sylv, he registered that they held an unusually hesitant posture, and there was nothing of mirth in their anxious face.

He set down his pen and stood, quickly shifting to a mode of readiness, that he might go forth and defeat whatever problem had concerned them. “No. Tell me what is wrong.”

“Well, nothing’s wrong, exactly, but, ah. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I might…” They pressed their lips together and looked away.

“Yes?” Hendrik prompted.

Sylv’s eyes closed and they took a deep breath. Then they straightened their shoulders and donned a more determined expression as they looked at Hendrik again. “No, there’s no ‘might.’ I’ve decided. I’m going to go back on the road.”

“You are? Where? To visit Puerto Valor, again?”

“Everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Hendrik repeated, uncomprehending.

“Puerto Valor, first, I suppose. My boys are waiting. I know a couple of them have settled down by now, but most of them will be ready to resume our world tour together.” Their determined expression slipped and a little of the worry popped back out: a wrinkle at the brow; a tiny smile that might have carried the beginning of an apology.

Hendrik stared for a moment, struggling to comprehend the declaration and its implications. Sylv couldn’t mean that they wanted to travel the whole world. That would take months. Years. Years away from Heliodor.

Years away from Hendrik.

“Why?”

“Why to which part?”

“Why would they wish to tour the world, now? Why would you?” His dismay creeps into his voice and makes the question come out harshly.

(In retrospect, he supposes he truly meant: why do you not wish to stay here with me? Perhaps that question would have set the conversation on a less combative path. But that is not what he said.)

The crease disappeared from Sylv’s forehead. The scrap of a smile faded and their eyes narrowed slightly. “Really, Henny? All this time, and you can’t think of any reason why I’d want to gather a troupe and go traveling?”

“You have your little weekly shows here. You can do them alongside the important work we are doing.”

“Ah. I see.” Their words abruptly turned sharp-edged, and the corners of their mouth turned down. “The very important work of building a castle for you to live in with the royal family.”

Hendrik felt his shoulders tense defensively. “We built housing for the people, first!”

“Of course. Everyone with their own patch of roof. Very thoughtful.”

“The castle will double as a good defensive bastion, should it be needed. And it is an important symbol for Heliodor.”

Sylv smiled, but it wasn’t their bright and cheerful smile. This was the dangerous one they wielded like a weapon. “Oh, yes. Looking up at a big house on a hill is just the thing to really cheer you up when you’re living in a barracks built on the ruins of your home.”

  


* * *

  


Suddenly, Hendrik stops his lonely pacing as this memory sparks another, and his mind jumps much, much further back. Decades. The scrap of half-forgotten memory plays out in his mind’s eye, more vividly than he knew he could recall anything from back then.

  


* * *

  


“Lady Silke, I understand your plight, I really do. But a mere song is no kind of payment in this business. I must make some kind of profit, or what will I tell my wife and children?”

“Oh, yes. Tonight, you can close up the doors to your very fine shop in your lovely big house, and when you sit down to dinner, you can tell your family all about the way you cleverly sent away two dozen refugees with nothing to eat. I expect they will be greatly cheered by your prudence. In fact, I might be moved to tears by your great wisdom, myself. How about you, Henny?”

The tall, beautiful woman holding his hand glanced down at him, still wearing a smile that Hendrik didn’t understand at all. Tears filled his eyes. “You said we would get to eat today,” he said plaintively, the hunger pangs and the first bewildered suspicion of betrayal leading him to speak aloud for the first time in three days.

“I’m afraid the only way that’s going to happen is if this gentleman turns out to be as kind as I first thought, and he thinks of something he might offer to travelers in need,” Silke said.

“Well, I don’t know. I might be able to spare something,” said the man.

Silke turned her smile back in his direction. “Oh? How wonderful! I’m so sorry that I lost faith in you, even for a moment.”

Later that night, someone commented that the grain for the porridge must have come from Zwaardsrust. Hendrik saw them crying, and he started crying too.

Silke’s voice rang out. “Well, then, you see: our home still exists. It’s in us, and it’s spread across the rest of the world. As long as anything that came from Zwaardsrust exists, Zwaardsrust also exists. Now, who better to eat this than us? A nice little coincidence. Let’s eat up!”

The porridge was thinner than Hendrik had eaten at home, and it held no fruit or spices. It was also more delicious than anything he could remember.

  


* * *

  


Hendrik shakes his head. Now he understands Silke’s aggressive smile for the merchant, at least, after he’s seen the same thing on Sylv’s face so many times. Certainly, Sylv shares her iron will, and perhaps Hendrik should have seen that the argument was already unwinnable.

  


* * *

  


Sylv did not wait for a response about the castle, just waved a hand and said, “Oh, never mind. Some people do like a nice building as a symbol of hope, I guess. But building inspiring buildings is not exactly my area of expertise.”

“You have many areas of expertise. You have not done too poorly at building.”

“Thank you, honey,” they said with exaggerated gratitude. “But as tempting as it is to continue a life of not doing too poorly, I think it’s time for me to find another stage where I can, in fact, shine to the best of my ability.”

“Do you truly believe that capering about on a stage is the best use of your time, now?” Hendrik said, speaking with rather more desperation than good sense as he felt the conversation spinning out of his control. As he felt his anticipated future with Sylv slipping from his fingers. “Have you learned nothing of duty in our travels together?”

Sylv sharply lifted their chin, managing to look down their nose at him despite their lesser height. They raised their voice to fill the room and snapped, “Duty? Duty? Are you really going to try to chain me here with duty? Well, how about my duty to use my greatest strengths for the greatest good, eh? How about my duty to fulfill my sworn word and make the whole world smile, eh? Not much of a knight if I walk away from that, am I?”

“You were a child when you swore that oath, Sylv. Even if it was binding, surely you have fulfilled it by now, have you not? I think you could say that the world has been made to smile with the defeat of the Dark One.”

Sylv shook their head. “I was a child when I first swore that oath, but I have sworn it again every year since. I swear it again to you now: I will make the whole world smile.”

“Why?” Hendrik startled himself with the volume of his own voice, but he continued, “Why would you swear such a foolish oath? It is such a large task as to be impossible if you take it literally, and for such a meaningless thing.”

“Ah! Tell me how you really feel, will you?” Another sharp little smile. “Well, I don’t think it’s meaningless at all. I think it’s the most important thing in the world, especially now.”

“How is it important? There are so many other things that need doing.”

“How is it important? Hendrik, the most awful things have happened all over the world. We’ve gotten rid of the problems as best we could, but we couldn’t undo what’s already happened. Outside of whatever our Luminary’s doing, anyway, but it sure seems like that’s not going to change anything for those of us he left behind.”

Both of them fell silent for a moment, as always happened when anyone unexpectedly referenced the Tower, but then Sylv shook themself and continued, “So there are many, many people out there who are still hurting. People who have lost loved ones, who have suffered, who have forgotten how to smile. None of that went away just because we defeated a villain. I’m sure many people have begun to heal on their own, but many others are still going to need a reminder of what it looks like when people are happy. Even if it’s just for a moment, I want to make everyone smile, so they don’t forget how.”

  


* * *

  


Another old memory blindsides Hendrik. He wonders how on Erdrea he hadn’t made the connection as soon as Sylv had spoken those words. Maybe he had, on a subconscious level.

  


* * *

  


“All right, everyone.” Silke’s voice rang out like a church bell. “On your feet if you’re able. Let somebody else pick you up if you aren’t. We’re here, we have each other, and the sun is shining. I want to see a smile from each of you. Doesn’t have to be a good one. Cry through it if you have to. But show me your teeth. We are alive, and we are our country and our people, and we are not going to give up, ever. We will find joy again. We are going to remember the joy we had in our homes. We will find new homes, and new places to share our future joy with the world. So just for one minute, I want all of you to smile. We’ll need the skill again, so let’s not forget how.”

She walked among the group of them, inspecting their faces. She knelt in front of Hendrik, and he felt guilty because he couldn’t seem to do what she asked.

“Come on, little one,” she said, smiling into his face and running a hand through his hair. (Or had she looked sad, instead? The memory won’t settle into one version or the other.) “It doesn’t have to be a happy smile, yet. You could do a sabrecat smile instead. Just show me some teeth.”

So he pulled back his lips in a snarl, and she made the same face back at him, and for just an instant, he felt the corners of his mouth quiver upwards, because it was funny to see this beautiful lady making such a mock-menacing face with him.

Then he lost the whole smile because nothing was really all right and he couldn’t be smiling when his family was gone.

She reached and pulled him into her arms, held him tightly against her. Murmured into his hair. “All right, my darling, you’ve done very well. Thank you. I’m proud of you. Well done.” Then she picked him up and carried him like a younger child. He thought that he had not been carried like that for at least the prior year, or longer. She let him cling to her and weep into her neck while she got everyone else moving.

She began leading the group in a familiar song about flowers as they walked down the road, and he was distracted from his misery by the odd dichotomy of hearing her voice belting out over one of his ears and at the same time echoing through her body and reaching him through the ear he had pressed to her shoulder. After a few repetitions, he started mouthing the words to the chorus along with her. But it was too early for him to join in the vocalization, that day.

  


* * *

  


Maybe Hendrik had remembered that moment in the back of his mind during the argument, after all. He can appreciate it, now, with a bittersweet nostalgia, but it still carries a little of the pain from those early days after the Fall, even if it had been one of the brighter moments out of the days surrounding it. Maybe that pain was why he had reacted as if Sylv had been trying to hurt him.

  


* * *

  


Hendrik pressed his lips together, then said, “Frivolous. Better to work to provide shelter and safety for those in need. You might say it is hard to live without a smile, but at least they will be alive. Time enough for other nonsense once their future is secured.”

“Oh, what a lovely future you have laid out for your people. Secure and safe and sombre. Is this why you wanted me to join the military?”

“If you would only apply yourself fully to your swordwork, I imagine you should be able to match me blow for blow in a year or so. There was a time you could outwit me in battle, despite your lesser stature.”

“The flattery is just dripping from your lips today, Henny-honey.”

“People will be pleased to see heroes in their midst, making a show of strength. Perhaps that alone will bring smiles,” Hendrik said, choosing to let Sylv’s sarcasm pass without comment. “And if not, we will protect them so that they may smile in their own time. We should tend first to our duty as their sword and shield. You know that together, we are undefeatable. Just imagine if you had never run from home, and we had worked side by side through the years.”

He meant all of this as encouragement, as an illustration of what they might yet become in the years ahead of them, and as an expression of enthusiasm for the concept of a life with Sylv at his side, but he knew even as the words left his mouth that this was absolutely the wrong thing to say.

“What a knightly sentiment. Papi would have loved to have you as a son.”

  


* * *

  


Hendrik winces at the memory, fresh enough that he can still hear the bitterness in Sylv’s voice, can still see Sylv shifting and looking away as if they had unpleasantly surprised themself with their own reaction.

And then the back of Hendrik’s throat stings for another reason. It seems he cannot shake the older memories now that he has started looking at them.

  


* * *

  


“Henny, sweetie! There you are! You do remember me, don’t you?”

“Silke?” Hendrik dropped his fork as the familiar voice rang through him like a bell. He stood up and scrambled over the bench and toward the door, luncheon forgotten. There she was, standing together with an unfamiliar man who held a small child asleep in his arms.

Hendrik stumbled to a halt in front of Silke and gave her a proper bow. “That is, Lady Silke! It is good to see you!”

She laughed, warm and joyful. “So formal, darling! Come, give me a hug, lambkin.”

He reached up eagerly for the proffered embrace. She gave him a good squeeze, then held him at arm’s length to look him over. “I see they’ve been feeding you here. How you’ve grown! Carnelian is doing well enough for you, then?”

“Yes, Lady Silke. I must thank you for bringing me here. He has been as kind as a father to me.”

“Good. Good. That makes me feel ever so slightly better that I didn’t keep you for my own,” she said with a wink.

“You would have been a good mother, too,” Hendrik said, pleased that she must regard him with as much fondness as he still felt for her. For an instant, he imagines living with her. She might teach him to sing the way she does, or perhaps he could learn to inspire and lead people using other methods than the military style he’s just begun to glimpse from his tutors. Certainly he looks up to her as much as any adult he knows, even including the king. Yet he’s finding happiness here, too. “I wish I could have you for a mother and the king for a father.”

Silke laughed again, and so did the man standing behind her. Silke looked over her shoulder and said to the man, “He’s such a sweet, simple boy, isn’t he?”

(Years later, when Hendrik went to train with him, Don Rodrigo rarely spoke of his wife. But then, sometimes, when Hendrik was being particularly thick-headed, the older man would repeat the phrase. "Such a sweet, simple boy." The shared memory, a little secret between the two of them, took the sting out of the apparent reprimand, even when it was spoken with the other boys as witnesses.)

“Oh, what a darling you are,” Silke continued. “But Henny, I wanted you to meet the rest of my family. This is my husband and our child. So, I am sorry, but I cannot very well marry the king. But who knows! Maybe one day you and Norberto will grow up, fall in love, and get married, and then you’ll officially become my child, after all.”

“Yes, Lady Silke,” Hendrik said agreeably. Silke laughed and bent to hug him again.

  


* * *

  


The first two steps of Silke’s prediction have come to pass, all right. At least from Hendrik’s perspective. He is no longer quite certain what Sylv has felt for him. But in any case, it looks as if completing Silke’s suggestion is off the table, now.

Hendrik feels a little of the old grief at the thought that that was the last time he had ever seen her, and then he feels an additional little pulse of sadness at the notion that he will not, in fact, be able to call Silke his mother, even if she is no longer present to hear it.

Hendrik shuts his eyes, then fumbles for the edge of the desk in order to sit down on it.

Silke’s passing is an old sorrow, some of the edges filed off by the passage of time. But tonight, that sorrow is the wedge that cracks his heart open to fully realize what it means that Sylv is leaving. Sylv is leaving Heliodor and leaving Hendrik, and he will not see them again for months, or years. It is unlikely that they will remain after they next visit. It doesn’t matter that he loves them; they aren’t ever going to be a part of his life in the same way from now on. They will go forth on their impossible quest to shepherd the entire world into a happily ever after, but they will not offer such a fairy tale ending to Hendrik, himself.

Hendrik presses his hand over his face, and he thinks of the end of the argument, unsure whether he seeks a distraction, or if he is merely probing at it like a sore tooth.

  


* * *

  


Sylv briskly continued speaking, as if by talking quickly enough, they might overwrite the implication that they still carried any hard feelings related to their history with their papi. 

“Well. What do you hope to accomplish with your extremely powerful military? Are you going to become the most powerful force in the world?” they asked.

“Perhaps. It is a good goal for which to strive.”

“Why, exactly? What’s the point of being stronger than everybody else?”

“If we are strong enough, we will ensure that no tragedy will befall the kingdom again like the one that has nearly struck us down once already. This kingdom will not become one of the lost.”

“Do you really think that’s likely to be a problem? We did finish that whole little saving the world job, and we did a pretty thorough job of sweeping up all kinds of villains all over the place. I don’t think there’s anyone left to make such trouble. Personally, I don’t think it will do a lot of good to make people dwell on the idea that such trouble could find us again, right now.”

“It is better to be safe than sorry. Better to build up our strength and not need it, than to need it and wish we had it.”

“And what if you need it because you have it?”

“What?”

“What if other countries look at the big, scary army that Heliodor is building, and maybe they remember once or twice that Heliodor did something a teensy bit aggressive? Like, say, arranging for a whole city to be frozen in ice. Or sending a tentacular after some poor little boats.”

“That was not truly Heliodor’s doing!” Hendrik protested.

“Wasn’t it? Do you think the whole world knows which specific villains to blame? Or do you think they might get an itsy-bitsy case of nerves, looking at all your very many sharp swords?”

“Surely...Surely after the good we have done together all over the world, people will at least trust in Jade, and myself. And you, should you stay.”

“Mm. And is it wise for them to offer such trust?”

“What!” Hendrik clenched a fist at his side. He could tolerate Sylv’s pointed questions at himself, but such a harsh insult to his princess...their friend...his near-sister, behind her back, and coming from Sylv of all people, Hendrik could not understand. “How could you think to question Jade’s honor! She would never abuse her power.”

“I should hope not, but what if she doesn’t hold the power? What if one day, you and she go off on an emergency quest that takes longer than expected, and whoever’s your second or third or fourth in command at the time isn’t so nice? Or what if Heliodor keeps on polishing up its fancy toys, and then a generation or three from now, a villain marries into the family? It’s well and good to make yourself and some people you trust into a big old weapon, but what if another Mordy comes along to take the hilt, eh?”

“You are contradicting yourself,” Hendrik said, triumphant at spotting a place to gain the logical upper hand against Sylv’s quick wits. “First you tell me there is no purpose to building our strength because there is no possible threat, and now you tell me there is a waiting threat that will take us over. Well? Which is it? Permanent world peace, or a villain in the shadows?”

“Tch. You’re right. Silly old Sylv, spouting more meaningless nonsense.” They raised a hand and looked away. “Never mind, then. I see you’ve got all the answers figured out, and you’re better off without my involvement. Carry on with your military genius. I’ll be leaving just around midmorning, if you feel like waving goodbye.” They spun on their heel and stepped toward the door.

“Sylv. You are truly set on this impossible quest?” He knew as he said it that they would only take further offense, but he still hated the idea of them leaving, and he still stupidly longed to somehow convince them it was a bad idea so that they might turn around stay after all. He tried to soften his tone for a last ditch attempt to salvage the conversation. “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?”

They paused briefly in front of the door. “It’s just about as likely as you changing yours. You’re welcome to up and join me, instead. I know you still have a proper costume for it.”

They flung their sharp smile at him over their shoulder like a knife, together with the preposterous ultimatum, and Hendrik finally began to understand the degree to which he had disappointed them today.

They said, “Bye, Henny. Make sure to come to my show next time I’m in town. You wouldn’t want to miss out on the spectacle of a lifetime. You might learn something.” And then they walked out the door and left him behind.

  


* * *

  


The ridiculous costume. Hendrik knows without a doubt which costume Sylv was referring to.

Hendrik blinks away the moisture clouding his eyes and lurches into his bedroom. He flings open the doors to his wardrobe and reaches up to pull the box off the back of the shelf. He carries it unopened and sits down on the bed with it held tightly in his hands. 

He hasn’t had the heart to get rid of it while Sylv has been keeping him company, lest they take offense. Now, well, who knows when he might find the heart to get rid of the last memento of Sylv’s presence in his life.

The costume is absurd. Undignified. Designed to draw a laugh at the wearer’s expense. It is beyond inappropriate for the general of a kingdom.

Although the day Sylv badgered him into wearing it is not, in fact, a terrible memory. The company he was keeping was hardly less fancifully garbed. A few people had indeed smiled at him, and he had felt an odd sense of pride at that. For a moment, he thought he had understood something of what it was that called Sylv to the stage.

Sylv, of course, lives every day as if it takes place on a stage. As if it is their duty to cheer up everyone who so much as comes into line of sight of them.

They have certainly been responsible for a great deal of joy in Hendrik’s life. “I think that I’d like to try and get a smile out of you every day,” they’d said, the first day they kissed him, and he suspects they’ve kept track, because he has never smiled so often, even back when he was a youth and Jasper truly qualified as a best friend.

He thinks of the days ahead, and he tries to envision his life without Sylv.

Well. Think of duty, first. His work has carried him through many otherwise unexceptional years before now. He still needs to train up his second and third in command. They still need assistance with…

Not much, truthfully. Granted, sometimes Hendrik can answer a question of logistics or strategy that leaves them grasping for a reply, but these days, sometimes it goes the other way, and they come up with excellent answers that he would not have considered. He has been pleased by the thought that the operations he has coordinated will continue smoothly enough even if some unforeseen circumstance should suddenly render him unable to serve.

More mundanely, there is the work of carrying rubble out of the way. Everyone here pitches in for at least part of the day. They tear down the broken skeletons of old, ruined homes and put together new dwellings in their place, and they replace the chaos with order. Simple work, but valuable. There is some degree of satisfaction to be found there.

Hendrik never finds that it is as much work to do the manual labor as it is to willfully ignore the destruction on the other side of the square. Everyone agrees it is the logical choice to build up a comfortable space for people to live before cleaning out the entire shell of the city. Everyone agrees it is better to live within the safety of the city walls. It is little matter that the wrecked remains of the houses across the way always seem to stare at Hendrik as if the ghosts of three nearly-dead kingdoms have accompanied him to this place and taken up residence.

Hendrik has learned long ago to accept such morose thoughts and let them pass through him without lingering more than a moment, but that does not mean he enjoys them. He shakes off the notion, though to judge by past experience, it is likely enough to enter his mind again tomorrow or the next day. But right now, he casts about for another bright spot to which he might look forward.

There are the communal meals. The soon-to-be tavern that serves as a dining hall is not large enough to seat everyone at once, but Jade and Carnelian both insist that Hendrik schedule his dinner when they are present. It is pleasant to share their company. It is good to speak with them, and to watch them converse with whichever other citizens manage to claim the same time slot. It is a far cry from the days when the king was possessed and the divide between royalty and commoner might have been a canyon. As it is now, the royal family treats their subjects almost as an extension of their own family.

Hendrik thinks that there is a greater divide between himself and the people of Heliodor than there is between the people and their king and princess. He, himself, is not skilled at small talk. He has felt that the most he has bonded with the people is when Sylv was present to make playful jokes at Hendrik’s expense, and then with Sylv to egg her on, Jade would join in, and the whole table would fall helplessly into laughter.

Hendrik realizes he has never once taken offense to this. In fact, he will deeply miss their teasing. He is not quick-witted enough to entertain others with his own words, and Sylv drawing him into their jokes has made him feel connected to the group in a way he never manages on his own. It is as if he shares the responsibility for making them laugh, and although his only active contribution is putting on an air of mild indignation, listening to the laughter that he has helped to cause is a joyful feeling.

In contrast to that, he thinks that returning to the table without Sylv will not be such a bright spot, after all.

Well. Perhaps there is more to anticipate in the work for which Hendrik is better suited. The drills in swordwork. Sparring with those less skilled than himself, and leading the drills among all the citizens. Everyone is encouraged to learn some kind of self-defense. Everyone is willing. Everyone who is able has now developed enough skill to handle themselves on the roads these days. Still, they keep training.

They all know the routine by now. Hendrik’s role these days is largely to discourage horseplay and keep people on-task through the sessions.

He hears himself reminding the trainees that is a serious matter. That it could mean life and death one day. That they owe it to their fallen brethren to commit themselves to this endeavor.

He pictures the smiles fading from their faces before they resume their efforts. He thinks of the days when some of the trainees go above and beyond, pushing their own limits, and how he has praised them for it.

Then he thinks of Silke and the refugee band once again.

  


* * *

  


"Enough for today. Sit down and rest."

Most of the group lowered the assortment of scavenged and makeshift weapons they held.

One man did not. "Rather keep training, ma'am," he said.

"Oh? You are swaying on your feet. Why must you continue until you are completely empty?"

"Going to make our enemies sorry, ma'am."

Hendrik looked at the man's face, and for some reason he found it more frightening than any of the monsters they had met on the road.

"Our enemies? Who exactly are they?" Silke asked.

The man's face darkened further. "That is a foul jest. Have you already forgotten the monstrosities that destroyed our home?"

"No. But also yes. Do you suppose I memorized the faces of every monster who appeared that day?"

"Then I will kill every monster I can find."

"Now that, you shouldn't promise. There are a few who will speak to humans and live among them peacefully, you know."

"How can you possibly trust a monster?" The man spat his words.

"Not every crime has been committed by a being with a form you would find monstrous," Silke answered calmly.

"So, then, what? Would you have us simply accept death when it comes for us in the form of tooth and claw, without any resistance at all?”

“Of course not. None of us here have done so, and none of us will. But those of us here did not escape by fighting. Not that day. We fled, or we hid, or we were simply away from the danger.”

The man’s face changed to some odd, pained expression. (In retrospect, Hendrik thinks it must have been guilt. Hendrik may have made such a face, himself, once or twice since then.)

Silke’s voice took on a softer tone, though she still spoke clearly enough that everyone must have heard. “There is no shame in it. If we had fought to the last man, there would be none of us left. We have the blessing of our lives, which we may use to carry on the spirit of our people. You remember the story of Drustan, do you not?”

“The greatest warrior who ever lived?” said the man in a hoarse voice.

“The man who founded Zwaardsrust. He was a great warrior, true, and he fought well, but when there was nothing left to fight, he gave up fighting and built a kingdom based on peace. Zwaardsrust. Sword’s Rest. That is the kingdom from which we came. We were born of peace. Peace and beauty and love and joy. We have so much more to offer the world than our weapons.”

The man dropped his knife and his shoulders slumped. Silke tilted her head, gave him a gentle smile, and bent to pick up the knife. She slipped it into the sheath at the man’s hip and then placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I am not saying we shouldn’t train to defend ourselves. The world is hardly as peaceful as it was when Drustan gave up his first career. But we do not need to destroy ourselves in a quest to become invincible. Let it only be one part of our lives, and only so as long as there is a need to fight. And then, if any of us should find a corner of the world that is ready for peace again, let us be ready to embrace it. Let us live in the hope that one day, we may take the same peace that made us and share it with the rest of the world. Then Zwaardsrust will become an idea rather than a place, and it will live on wherever we we bring it.”

  


* * *

  


Hendrik suddenly regrets quashing what joy his trainees have found in their practice. Teaching them to prioritize skill over happiness. Teaching them that peace might be lost at any moment, that they must keep the possibility of violence foremost in their minds. The idea suddenly tastes bitter. Shameful.

If ever the world has been ready for peace, surely it is now.

It is difficult to contemplate laying down his own sword. He is a general, a soldier. He is good at what he does. It is not hubris to imagine that he might lead Heliodor to regain or surpass its former strength, in time.

And yet. Is that truly the task to which he wishes to dedicate the rest of his life? There is a kind of pleasure in knowing he is skilled at the work, and in being respected for that skill, but there is no joy in actually causing harm to another being. It has always been duty, no more.

He thinks of Sylv’s postulation that war could break out only because Heliodor has overprepared for it. He is not certain whether this is true, but in thinking of any sort of war between kingdoms, he suddenly discovers that he has lost the ability to imagine the hypothetical enemy as faceless or villainous. Both armies will be made up of people he has met and personally aided. Or, Goddess forbid, their children.

He has already doggedly pursued one young man with an intent to kill him, only to discover that doing so was a grievous error. The Luminary turned out to be an innocent boy with a true heart, someone Hendrik came to respect and to care for as a dear friend, or perhaps even as a son. How, then, should he take up arms against another boy of the same age? Hendrik was beyond fortunate that he failed the first time.

It is always young men who are placed on the front lines in a war. Hendrik thinks that if another country were to declare war upon Heliodor, he would be sorely tempted to drop his sword and walk away at the first sight of the enemy, which is clearly a dangerous weakness for a general to carry.

Perhaps he is no longer suited to be a general.

Perhaps he is doing the things he does only out of habit, or out of a lingering and needless fear. Perhaps not everything he does is the best possible choice for what he could be doing with himself. It is true that warfare is his greatest skill, today, but perhaps he might learn other areas of expertise. Perhaps he might instead find a way to promote peace, so that war will not come to pass.

Perhaps Sylv is right.

Perhaps Silke is right.

He loves Heliodor and its people. But they do not truly need him to be the knight he has been. They would be fine without him. In some ways, they might be better off without him, at least as the sombre warrior he is now.

And though he loves Heliodor, and it has been home for many years, he is also a child of Zwaardsrust. A kingdom that has become an idea. A legacy of peace, beauty, love, and joy belongs to Hendrik as well. It is a legacy that holds greater appeal the longer he thinks about it, and he begins to think that perhaps he should make an effort to share it more widely than he has.

  


* * *

  


After a long, restless night of contemplation and several rather lively meetings in the early morning hours, Hendrik waits outside the entrance to the city.

By now, he has had time to reconsider his decision many times over, and a number of people important to him have asked him, “Are you sure about this?” He keeps finding the same answer. He is set on this path, and he has no misgivings about it.

There is only one act for which he has not been able to muster the courage, and that was to don the garb he has chosen for this leg of the journey prior to saying his farewells. He is wearing it now, and perhaps he might wear it upon his return to the city, but it still feels too new and strange to him to share it with people familiar to him just yet. He feels like he needs to finish growing into it, first.

Except for Sylv. Hendrik might have arbitrarily chosen some other new path, if not for them. He is very much wearing today’s traveling gear for Sylv’s benefit.

Hendrik takes a deep breath as he sees Sylv exiting the gates, and he stands up straight at the side of the road to wait for them. They are looking up at the sky while Hendrik moves, evidently absorbed with fixing a determined smile onto their face, so they do not see him until they are a few paces away and Hendrik clears his throat.

They look at Hendrik and freeze mid-step. They glance down at the colourful and ungainly costume he wears, then up at his face, and their eyes are comically wide. He has surprised them in a way he has rarely seen on their face. He has never been personally responsible for that expression, before.

“Hendrik?” His name bursts from their lips like a startled bird taking flight.

“Good morning, Sylv. I wonder if I might take you up on your offer?” He thinks that his voice sounds odd. It is probably to be expected, given the thing partly obstructing his nose. But Sylv has previously insisted that it is an essential part of the costume, so he leaves it where it is.

“My offer? You want to come with me?” This, too, leaves their mouth in a wash of astonishment, and Hendrik thinks it is the least calculated thing he has ever heard them say.

“If you will have me.”

“I...Yes! Yes, of course, darling! If...Are you really sure? I, ah, I think I was a little too hard on you yesterday. I said some things I didn’t really mean.”

“You said nothing that I did not need to hear. I was the one who spoke out of line. I was not only unkind, but foolish as well, to dismiss your life’s work as I did. You spoke truly. The world needs you and your chosen work more now than ever.”

“Oh, my darling.” They press a hand over their heart. “Thank you. But, Henny, I am sorry for what I said. My feelings were a little hurt, but that doesn’t mean I should have dismissed the work you’ve been doing, either. I know you have everyone’s best interests at heart. Really, I can’t think of a more selfless man.” They drift a few steps closer, face soft, now.

Hendrik shakes his head. “You spoke many truths. Heliodor does not need my sword. The world does not need my sword.”

“Darling, that may be true, but you can still be a comfort to your people. You are a great hero, and anyone would feel better with you around. You could go back and put on your pretty armor and work on your army and your castle, and I truly wouldn’t think less of you.”

“I appreciate that, but I am certain of my path. That is, if you will assist me in learning the skills for it. I know that I have much training ahead of me.”

They press their fingers over their lips for a moment, then try again: “It means a lot to me that you would offer this. But are you really, really sure you want to do this? Living as a knight is so important to you. Heliodor is so important to you. I don’t want you to give up being yourself just because of me.”

Hendrik bows his head for a moment, understanding now that this is what he had truly asked of Sylv by pressuring them to stay in Heliodor. But it is not the same thing in the other direction. He takes a moment to marshall his words so as to reassure them.

“It may be true that a knight of Heliodor is all I have been for many years, but it is not the only thing I have ever been, and I hope that it is not all I may ever be. Sylv, I have put a great deal of thought into the matter after what you said, and I have remembered things I should not have forgotten. And now, in truth, I find I have grown weary of fighting. I do not need or want to pursue it as my life’s work any longer. With the world at peace, I feel it is time to lay down my sword, like Drustan before me."

“Sword’s Rest,” Sylv says softly. Their eyes shine.

Hendrik nods. “Zwaardsrust was a kingdom made for peace. Peace and beauty, love and joy. The great city is gone, but there is no reason the ideals should be lost as well. Your mother taught me that. It is past time that I remembered it.”

“My mother?” Sylv tilts their head to the side. “I always forget that you met both my parents when I was small. You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Have I not? Hm. I suppose I never wished to stir up old grief for your family, or myself, back then. But then I have done you a grave injustice. I am sorry for it.”

“It’s all right. But I’d love to hear anything you remember about her.”

“That may take some time. Did you truly not know? She was the one who rescued me when Zwaardsrust fell. She led a group of us away from there until she found new places for all of us to live.”

“Oh,” they say, eyes wide as saucers once more.

“She was an incredible woman. You remind me of her in many, many ways. I am entirely certain that she would be immensely proud of the person you have become.”

“Oh,” they say again, and now they are blinking back tears.

“I do not know that all of my stories of her will make you smile. It was not the happiest time. But assuredly, she was the reason we found any happiness at all.”

“Please. If you can bear it, I would very much like to hear anything you can tell me.”

“Then I shall. As I said, it will take some time, but if I may add my poor efforts to yours on your quest to bring joy to the world, I imagine we will have time in plenty.” He lets a little uncertainty show in his demeanor, making it into a question.

“My quest might take years, you know,” they say, an answering question in their voice. “It might take a lifetime."

Hendrik nods, and he says, “I shall consider myself most fortunate if this is a journey that allows me to spend so long at your side.”

Sylv smiles like a flower blooming: slow, beautiful, unstoppable. Hendrik feels something grow in his heart in response, and he realizes he is smiling just as broadly.

Then Sylv says, “Henny, my love, I’m so, so glad,” and they bounce forward to throw their arms around Hendrik’s neck. They pause with their lips halfway to his, and the corners of their eyes crinkle as they bring a hand back around to pinch the bright blue prosthetic nose off of his face with an absurd little squeak.

Hendrik cannot find a trace of unhappiness in himself over the indignity, nor over anything else, as Sylv leans up to complete the kiss. In fact, he has never in his life imagined that he would one day be so intensely glad as this to have chosen to wear the costume of a clown.


End file.
